


Hello, Cruel World

by Goldpeaches



Category: Heroes (TV), The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Crossover, Dark, M/M, Superpowers, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5066404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldpeaches/pseuds/Goldpeaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crossover with Heroes. All over the world, ordinary people developed extraordinary abilities. They can fly, they glow in the dark and read minds. Like his character on The Almighty Johnsons, Dean has the ability to manipulate others with his voice<br/>Aidan’s ability, however, is best kept secret. At least until an accident on set makes it impossible to hide.<br/>Set between the  final season of Heroes and before Heroes Reborn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello, Cruel World

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this Prompt at Hobbitkink:
> 
>    
>  _With Heroes Reborn starting, I re-watched the original and remembered how good the show was when it was good! It made me crave a story that was set in that universe, but with our beloved actors. :)_  
>  I am a big fan of Aidan/Dean and drama, but anything is cool, really.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to the wonderful [Solarlotus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/solarlotus/pseuds/solarlotus) for Beta Reading and being amazing!

“I can fly.”

“The kid says I can fly and it makes me want to kill myself,” Graham gives Adam’s shoulder a squeeze that is supposedly affectionate, but looks a little painful. “That’s a good one.”

“Not if you’re afraid of heights,” Adam replies with a shrug, making everyone around the table howl with laughter. 

“Life really isn’t kind to you,” Mark says. “So, we know what you can do, Jimmy.” He pushes his empty glass in James’ direction who picks up the pitcher of tap water and pours out deliciously rich, creamy stout. 

“Now, that is a good one,” Adam sighs, pushing his glass over as well.

“If alcoholism is your thing, definitely,” Jimmy says cheerfully. “Aidan, your turn. Only if you can tear yourself away from your phone long enough to join us in the non-digital world, of course. _We wouldn’t want to be rude_.”

“I have to do something. It’s important,” Aidan replies, defending the offensively long time he spent staring at his phone instead of bonding with his new castmates. 

“Grindr,” is the response, badly covered by a fake sneeze. Unable to figure out who said it, Aidan gives the entire group of men the finger before putting down his mobile.

“Your turn. What is your ability?”

Aidan takes a drink from his beer. It is really good, especially considering that it more or less comes out of Jimmy. 

When he started getting to know everybody, Aidan could sort of tell who had an ability and who didn’t, even though it wasn’t ever brought up like this during their bootcamp. Now that filming had started he figured that it was just something that everybody kept secret. That was until Dean joined the cast so unexpectedly. His ability was part of the plot of his TV show, where he played a god or something and being around someone who was so open about his special power encouraged the other cast members to open up as well. While Aidan is usually more than happy to be the centre of attention, he prefers to remain quiet whenever the topic is brought up.

“I don’t have an ability,” he says keeping his eyes on his glass before looking around the table with an open smile to make the lie more believable. “I’m not evolved. Evolution basically went from cavemen to me and there it stopped.”

There is some disappointed grumbling coming from the rest of the group before Adam, sweet, clueless Adam decides to speak up.

“But… I saw your Evol ID. When we had to fill in all that paperwork.”

The smile becomes a lot less open and a lot more forced. 

“Okay. I have an ability. But it’s really, really lame and I wouldn’t want to bore you to death. Actually, that _is_ my ability. I can bore people to death.”

“I believe that, because I have talked to you before, and don’t believe it at the same time, how weird is that?” Mark asks.

“I say it’s bullshit,” Graham fixes Aidan with a stare. “Spill, Turner.”

“My feet never smell.”

“Nope. That’s a lie.” Dean delightfully choses this particular moment to join the conversation, turning Aidan’s smile from forced to threatening. “I can vouch for that.”

“Okay, lads, look, I can’t tell you because it’s kinky.”

“If it is the thing you have listed on your Grindr profile, then that is not a superpower. A nice skill, impressive, really, but not the type of ability we’re talking about here.”

“I don’t even have a profile! Wait, did you guys set one up for me?” He glares at the men sitting across from him darkly. That would certainly explain a lot of the e-mails he has been receiving lately.

“You don’t get to change the subject now.” Mark says suspiciously gleeful. “We are not done with you.”

“Dean, please, tell them to stop harassing me!”

“Nah. I only use my power for good,” Dean replies and finishes his coke. “Actually, I’m going to call it a night. It’s been a weird day and I still feel a bit strange.”

“Of course you do! Mate, when you went over that edge, we thought you were a gonner.” James shakes his head as if he still can’t believe that Dean is actually still among them. 

Aidan picks up his phone again, but then stuffs it into his pocket before he can unlock the screen again.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home,” he offers. He was the first one at Dean’s side, when he lost his footing on a plateau where they took a break from their ride and fell and he doesn’t need to talk about that. It is a great excuse to get away from the interrogation as well. “Just in case you banged your head harder than you thought. It might sneak up on you on the way or something.”

“Yeah, and make sure that is the only hard banging that is going to sneak up on you.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Mark,” Dean replies, over the immature chucking from the rest of the room and grabs his coat with one hand and Aidan’s arm with the other. “It’s a nice offer and I appreciate it.”

Aidan allows Dean to pull him up on his feet and follows him outside. The air is crisp and cool and the breeze makes the leaves at the side of the road dance. It feels wrong that it is autumn again. He did the whole autumn and winter thing at home and his inner clock is ready for spring. Apparently it didn’t get the memo about the move to the southern hemisphere.

“I wasn’t on Grindr,” he says, breaking the prolonged silence between them, as they walk. Somehow he felt the need to clarify that.

Dean looks at him from the side and after a moment gives him a little laugh.

“Thanks for the update. But I didn’t think you were.”

“Good.” Aidan nods slowly, feeling a little stupid now. “How’s your head?“

“I hadn't had any complains," Dean says with a wicked grin, before shrugging his shoulders. "My head’s fine. I just feel a little… Weird, I guess. Drained. Like a zombie.”

“You mean, you have a sudden craving for brains?” Aidan’s fingers curl around the buckle on the cuff of his leather jacket apprehensively. 

“Yeah,” Dean laughs and it is good to see him smile after his accident. It makes Aidan feel a little more relaxed as well. “That’s exactly it.” He pushes Aidan playfully and Aidan pushes him back a lot more gently. He is still freaked out by Dean’s accident, far more than Dean seems to be himself. 

“Thanks for walking with me.” Dean pulls the key to his flat out of his pocket and looks at Aidan expectantly. It almost feels like he is waiting for the goodnight kiss at the end of a date. “Come in for a drink?”

“Sure,” Aidan replies, relieved that he didn’t lean in and go for that kiss. Not that he doesn’t want to kiss him, out of all the people working on the movie, Dean definitely makes the top ten or maybe top five, of people he wants to kiss. Top three, if he is being honest with himself. However, he has to work with him for months, pretend to be his brother, and kissing might make things a little awkward.

 

Aidan wakes up with a groan. Cramming a 1.83 meter skeleton on a 1.60 sofa is bad enough as it is, but adding another person makes it a little too crowded. It helps a little that Dean’s foot has moved into a very interesting place, at least until Aidan grasps that a single twitch could have a very dramatic effect on the rest of his life - and the pitch of his voice.

He untangles his limbs from Dean’s very gently and knocks over a few empty bottles while searching for his phone. With the light of the telly that is still on with the sound muted, he finds it and groans again, when he realises that it is almost three in the morning. His alarm is set for five, so even if he left for home now he wouldn’t be able to get a lot more sleep. There is that, but there is also the fact that he doesn’t want to leave. He never intended to fall asleep on Dean’s sofa, honestly, but now that is has happened, he doesn’t want to go. 

He glances over at Dean and then, when his heart almost stops at the sight, does a double take.

“Oh, fuck no! Not again!” He leaps off the sofa, empty bottles on the floor be damned, and kneels at Dean’s head. He is lying on his side, with his chest facing the back of the sofa, but his head, is turned by 180 degrees and dangling off the sofa.

He places his hand on Dean’s chest and, to his relief, feels is moving steadily with every breath. In the semi-darkness he even looks peaceful, smiling in his sleep.

Aidan considers letting him be, but it doesn’t seem right to let Dean wake up like this, with his head facing the wrong way. It might freak him out just a little bit.

For the second time within 24 hours, Aidan gently takes a hold of Dean’s head and starts turning it back into its normal position. The bones in his spine crunch sickeningly and Aidan can feel them pop back in place under his fingers. He doesn’t allow himself to think about what is happening. He needs to fix Dean and that is all he is doing. With the armrest in the way he manages to get Dean’s head into a slightly uncomfortable, but at least normal looking position and just when he is about to let go, Dean sighs and wakes up. 

“What are you doing?” he whispers sleepily, when Aidan hurries to pull his hands away from his face.

“Uhm… You looked like you were falling off the sofa,” he says, not even convincing himself with that lie.

“Yeah?” Dean turns around. His entire body, with his head following the movement like it is supposed to. Blissfully unaware of his human owl moment, he smiles at Aidan. It is a soft smile, knowing and seductive. He reaches a hand out to cup Aidan’s cheek, just for a moment before he lets it drop to squeeze his shoulder. “Cheers, bro.”

“Sure.” It is probably better to let Dean think that he is a pervert who fingers his face in his sleep than telling him the truth. “Sorry, I fell asleep,” he says, when Dean checks the time on his phone and hums disapprovingly.

“No worries. You should go back to sleep though. It’s a long day tomorrow.” Dean shifts to make room for Aidan. The thought that he could go to his own bed and leave the sofa for Aidan apparently didn’t occur to him. Either that or he likes being this close.

Dean pulls down a blanket that hangs over the back of the sofa and drapes it over them.

“This is nice,” he whispers.

“What is?” Aidan asks, but the only reply is Dean’s foot brushing up his calf.

 

The next morning, everyone is still extremely nice to Dean and asking how he is feeling, while Aidan gets teased mercilessly for arriving with him and wearing the same clothes he wore the day before. Aidan doesn’t think that it is fair at all, but the overall tone is fun and light-hearted, so he plays along and teases right back.

The atmosphere dramatically turns around lunchtime, though. Aidan can feel the change, while he is sitting with Dean, laughing at him trying to shovel food into his mouth without eating his fake moustache. All of a sudden, people are _glancing_ their way. The usually loud, lively conversations decrease until it is entirely too quiet for Aidan’s taste. 

“Must be one hell of a piece of gossip,” Dean says, looking around impressed, before picking up his tray. It doesn’t happen often that gossip powerful enough to shut up an entire film crew emerges.

“Either that or they’re shutting down production for good this time,” Aidan agrees, remembering all the times the movie almost didn’t get made after all.

“Hey, do you know what’s going on?” Dean asks one of the production assistants, who is very busy not looking at them. She stammers something unintelligible before practically fleeing away from them.

“We’re not that intimidating, are we?” Aidan asks, feeling his face, just to check if he has suddenly grown horns. If anything he looks silly, with the long hair clipped away from his face, but not at all scary.

“I didn’t think so,” Dean replies with a deep frown on his face. “Come on let’s find Adam or Graham. They know everything.”

They walk around for a bit, but in the end it is Adam and Graham finding them. Graham is holding a kid by the collar of his coat. The boy doesn’t look old enough to even be an intern, but Aidan remembers seeing him working at the stables and helping with the horses. 

“Jason here has something to say to you.” Graham gives the boy a little push. He looks even more terrified than the production assistant and Aidan can’t really blame him for that. Unlike him and Dean, Graham certainly looks badass in full costume.

“I know that we aren’t allowed to film anything on our mobiles and… and I wasn’t filming you or anyone. I just wanted to get a few shots of the landscape, because I’ve never been out that far. When we took that break yesterday, I climbed down to the bottom of that cliff thing, just to film the area and then I heard you scream and I turned around and you were falling…”

“The little punk has been showing the video of your fall around,” Graham finishes, cutting the story short.

“I haven’t…,” Jason begins, but is interrupted by Adam. 

“We haven’t seen it.” He makes a wide gesture that suggests he doesn’t just mean Graham and himself, but all the dwarves. “But we figured you should and then decide what you want to do with it.”

“Why would he want to watch that?” Aidan asks as if it is the most ridiculous idea he has ever heard.

“I’m kind of curious,” Dean admits.

“Dean, it’s horrifying. Trust me, I saw the whole thing happen. You’re honestly better off not knowing.”

“How bad can it be? It might do you some good to watch it as well. Just to see that it probably looked worse from your perspective than it actually was.”

“No!” Aidan stares at Dean, while his voice grows louder. “You don’t want to watch it!”

“Why not?”

“You don’t want to see how you die!”

“But, Aid, I’m not dead. I’m bruised, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, well…” Aidan shrugs his shoulders in defeat. “Just don’t watch it.” He turns away without waiting for a reply to hide in his trailer for as long as possible before he is needed on set again.

 

He gets less than ten minutes of hiding before there is a knock on the door that Aidan answers reluctantly, fully expecting to be fired from the movie. Or, considering that he has been in a lot of shots, it might be a stern request for him to keep away from the rest of the cast when they aren’t filming.

He is wrong, though. When he opens the door, he is pushed back into his trailer, a pair of arms seizes him in an enthusiastic, exuberant hug. It is so surprising, it takes Aidan’s breath away momentarily and makes him want to cling onto Dean and not let go, but he can’t do that. Gently, he pushes Dean away from him.

“You saved me! You saved my life!” Dean beams at Aidan with the brightest, most beautiful smile and takes Aidan’s cheeks between his hands. “I could kiss you! You healed me!”

Aidan snorts at that and turns away from Dean, shaking his head slightly.

“I didn’t,” he says to the floor. He should keep his mouth shut, let Dean believe that he was healed and get that kiss. But the truth is, he has no idea what is going to happen with Dean and there is no way around an explanation. 

“Then what happened? What did I see in that video?” Dean is looking at Aidan with narrowed eyes now. “Aidan, I’m not joking. What did you do to me?”

Aidan saw Dean slip. He tried to reach him, but he was too far away. He saw him slip and then he was gone. He leapt up to the edge, and when he looked over, there was Dean, lying on his back, with his head twisted all the way around. With no regard to his own safety, Aidan climbed and skidded down as well, kneeling next to Dean, whispering his name over and over but receiving no response. In a snap decision, before anyone else could see, he bent over Dean’s body, grabbed his head and twisted it back and then, he laid his hands on Dean’s chest for just a moment, until he opened his eyes with a deep groan.

“I have an ability,” Aidan begins slowly. There is a reason why he never talks about it. It freaks people out. It makes them leave and never comeback if they can help it. He owes Dean an explanation, but it is unbelievably painful to talk about it, because he doesn’t want Dean to leave him. “I can raise the dead.”

Even through all the silicone and hair that is glued to his face, Aidan notices how vulnerable Dean looks. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. Instead the frown on his face deepens and becomes angry. He looks at Aidan with livid eyes, before he turns to leave, slamming the door behind him.

 

Aidan is inexpressibly relieved when they finish up for the day. To call being on set today painful would have been a very kind description. With Dean not talking to him and everyone else shooting him wary glances when they think he doesn’t notice is draining and it hurts more than he cares to admit. He had a good thing going here, but that is all gone now. He feels like he is miles away from everyone else and he can’t even blame them for being distant. There is a dark, disturbing side to him and by now Dean must have told them all about it.

When Andy dismisses them, he doesn’t wait around for the mandatory “good job, everyone” and “well done”. He drags himself to the makeup trailer, tearing off his prosthetic hands and wig as he walks.

He could quit. He has been doing okay for himself before this and he wouldn’t be the first one to walk away from The Hobbit. His bank account, his ego and his career would take a hit, sure, but it’s nothing he couldn’t recover from. He would hate to miss the opportunity of working with Peter Jackson and his amazing team, but how much is that really worth if it makes him and everyone around him miserable?

He hears someone running to catch up with him, but he doesn’t stop and doesn’t slow down until that someone grabs his arm. It is Dean, of course, looking at him with a mixture of resentment and doubt.

“When you found me, was I dead?”

Aidan squeezes the silicone in his hands tightly and nods. Dean huffs and looks around, lost, before focussing back on Aidan.

“So if you hadn’t done what you did, would I still be… dead?”

Aidan nods again, even weaker this time and gives Dean time to process the information.

“So what am I, then? Am I alive?”

Aidan swallows hard against the growing lump in his throat.

“I had no choice,” he whispers, avoiding the question and Dean’s eyes by staring at his feet. “I couldn’t let you… I couldn’t let you go.”

Dean’s grip softens on his arm.

“I…” he begins and shrugs his shoulders at a loss for words. 

“I’m trying to fix it. That’s why I’m on the phone all the time.” Aidan pulls his mobile out of an inside pocket in his coat as evidence. “I’ll find someone who can fix you. If I have this ability, there must be someone out there who can do it as well, only… better.”

“Sure,” Dean agrees, but he sounds like a man with no hope. Now that his anger is gone, he looks shattered and overwhelmed and Aidan feels just awful at the thought of leaving Dean alone to deal with it.

“If you want, I mean, if you can stand to be around me, if you’re not too angry with me, you could come over to my place. I’ll answer all your questions about this, if I can. Maybe that would help?”

“I’m not angry. Not at you. Well, not anymore. Without you I…” Dean shakes his head, unable to finish that thought. “I’m un… dead. I’m a zombie, Aidan. Do you think I’ll start to rot soon? And smell? And eat brains? God, I’m gonna spew.” He takes a deep breath to avoid that and collect himself. “The question isn’t if I can stand to be around you. It’s the other way around!”

“I don’t care.” Aidan drops the wig, the hands and his mobile carelessly and cups Dean’s face with both hands. “I don’t care.” He pulls Dean closer for a kiss.

 

“Are you better?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that meltdown.” Dean accepts a cup of tea from Aidan. After their almost-kiss was interrupted by half of the dwarves walking in on them hooting and whistling, Dean continued to freak out. Aidan had managed to calm him down long enough to get out of costume, before his thoughts spiralled downwards again, so much so, that Dean started hyperventilating and feeling dizzy. “People are going to think I’m such a drama queen. First I’m falling off a rock and now almost fainting.”

“Don’t worry about them. They’re all knobs.” Aidan sits down next to Dean and hesitates, but then laces their fingers together. He wishes his place was a bit more homey to make Dean feel calmer and more comfortable, but there is only so much he can – or wants to – do with a room in an apartment-hotel. 

“How long have you known?”

“About them all being knobs? It was pretty much instantaneously.” He hopes that the joke will lighten the mood a little bit and he thinks he can hear the hint of a smile in Dean’s voice, even though he tries to sound exasperated when he sighs “Aidan”. “Oh, you mean my ability.” He says the word with disgust. There is nothing to be proud of with this skill.

“Yes, that. How did you find out?”

“I think I’ve had it all my life, or at least for a long time. I remember going fishing with my Dad when I was a kid and he taught me how to whack the fish on the head to kill them and I did that. But every time I picked up one of the fish I just killed, it would start moving again. I never thought much of it, just that I was a lousy fish-assassin.” Aidan scratches his chin thoughtfully. “I found out, I think, four years ago. Just before I moved out to Bristol to do Being Human. The lady who lived next to my parents was really, really old and she had this dog, Puca. Oldest, most laid-back dog I have ever met, but terrified of fireworks. So, of course on New Years, when everyone was out, watching the fireworks, she got out and took off. We all searched for her for two days, but she was just gone. Then, one day, I was driving home from my… uhm… my mate’s house...”

_The road that Aidan takes on his way home is one less travelled. That it not a metaphor, it really is a road that not a lot of people use. Out-of-towners don’t know it and tend to stick to the main roads and locals usually avoid it, because it is narrow and usually flooded or muddy._

_Aidan takes it anyway on this grey, drizzly January afternoon, because no one cares about the speed limit on this road and it shaves a few minutes off his drive._

_He is forced to slow down, however, when he sees headlights ahead. It is a small Eircom van coming up, that has him steer his car halfway off the road to make room for it to pass. The driver lifts two fingers off the steering wheel as thanks as he goes by._

_When Aidan is about to get back onto the road, something just ahead of him catches his attention. Something large and black, almost hidden by the scrub at the side of the road. He never would have paid attention to it, had he not been looking for a large, black dog for the last couple of days._

_He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth while considering what to do. He is sure that the thing will turn out to be a garbage bag or a piece of tarpaulin, but he knows that he won’t be able to forget about it, if he doesn’t check it out. With a sigh he gets out of the car and flips up his collar against the cold wind and the rain. It isn’t pitch black night yet, but Aidan is glad that he left the lights of his car on anyway to help him see. The closer he gets the more it becomes apparent that it isn’t tarpaulin and it isn’t a bag. It is, he realises with grief, in fact a large, black dog. He can even see the hideous, old-lady style collar around the neck._

_“Shit,” he whispers to himself and looks around, but of course there is no one around to tell him what to do. Even though he isn’t keen on the idea to put the grimy, wet body into his car, he can’t leave her lying at the side of the road either. Before he can talk himself out of it, Aidan resolutely takes off his coat and wraps it around the limp, heavy body as best as he can before lifting it up._

_He puts Puca in the backseat and then quickly gets behind the wheel again. Before he starts the car, he looks over his shoulder. He can see Puca’s head poking out from under his coat. He reaches out and scratches behind her ears just the way she liked it one last time._

_“Good girl,” he whispers to her as if she could still hear him._

_She was ancient. Aidan had known her for years and she probably would have died of age before the end of the year, but it is still heart-breaking to see her go like this, cold and alone at the side of the road. He pulls back onto the road slowly and continues his way home, driving just below the speed limit, suddenly he is in no rush to get home. He dreads to have to bring the news to old Mrs Rooney, but at least she will have some closure and won’t have to worry about her beloved pet anymore._

_He couldn’t have been driving for more than a couple of minutes, when he notices a low, rumbling sound. Annoyed he checks the lights on the dashboard. His car has just been in the shop and he is tired of getting one thing fixed only to have another one break, but if he is moving to England as planned, there is no point buying a new car right now. However, all the warning lights are off and the car is going smoothly. Irritated, he checks the rear-view mirror, to see if there is a tractor behind him that is making the noise._

“Dean, I swear, I almost pissed myself. There was this massive, black, filthy dog sitting in my backseat, baring her teeth, slobbering and growling.” 

“What?!” Dean looks at Aidan with wide eyes. “What happened, what did you do?”

“I don’t know, I kind of talked to her? Tried to talk her out of any ideas she might have had about eating me. She looked so horrifying, her eyes were this milky, grey colour and she was just… pissed off. ” Aidan still gets chills when he thinks about the dog in the backseat. He still can’t watch Cujo or Pet Sematary to this day. “My Dad drove Mrs Rooney and Puca to the vet and they said the dog shouldn’t be alive. Basically all her bones were broken, her skull was crushed and she must have been in tremendous pain. They had to put her down.” Aidan stares at their linked hands for a moment before he continues. “The thing is, from the way she moved, she didn’t seem to be in any pain at all.”

“You mean, like this doesn’t hurt at all?” Dean lifts up his jumper to show off the large, angry looking bruises on his torso. “I feel like it should be sore.”

Aidan flinches at the sight, because, yes, that looks like it should hurt a lot.

“So you figured out that your ability works on fish and dogs. How did you know that you could bring me back?”

“Well, I didn’t figure it out straightaway. I experimented on all kind of dead things. Flies and spiders. One day I found half a mouse and I brought that back. That’s when I realised that there is probably not much limit to this ability.”

“Did you experiment on humans as well?” Dean asks slowly.

“Come on,” Aidan replies with a fake laugh and avoids Dean’s eyes. “How would I be able to get access to humans?”

Dean simply keeps looking at Aidan and it is unnerving. Yes, Aidan fully agrees that Dean should have as much information about this as possible, but he is not going to talk to him about the things he did. He isn’t going to tell Dean that he broke into a mortuary one night. He isn’t going to tell him that he brought four people back to life and, for a brief moment between two and three in the morning of a stormy March day, he felt like a god, while he stood there and saw his making through the little window in the door separated him from the undead. He observed with a sick sense of detachment how these people ranged from pretty normal in their behaviour to downright Hollywood-Zombies, depending on how long they had been dead. There was a young man, who had been brought in just hours ago after his death in a traffic accident, who was screaming hysterically for help and a woman who had been found dead in her flat after a week or two. She was frightening.

“Can we talk about something else?” He is definitely not going to tell Dean what he had to do to end his test and restore the mortuary back to its original state, with all of its residents back to where he found them. It wasn’t decent and he still feels sick and awful thinking about it. But at least, he found out for sure that the undead were not immortal. They could be killed and that was at least something.

“Actually, there isn’t much else on my mind right now,” Dean replies a little on edge.

Dean could make him tell. He could use his power of persuasion to make him spill his darkest secrets. To avoid that, Aidan continues talking, but moves the topic in a different direction.

“They warned me, you know, when I got registered. They said that I should to use this ability responsibly. Responsibly! I shouldn’t use it at all. In the wrong hands this could be really bad.”

“I don’t know what to say. I can’t exactly be objective. But…” He squeezes Aidan’s hand supportively. “These are good hands. And you’ve got a good heart and a good head. I’m not worried about a thing when I think about you having this gift. Then again, I _am_ deceased, so what do I care?”

The kind words make Aidan smile in spite of everything.

“Can we call it something else, though? Calling you dead makes me sound like a necrophiliac when I do this.” He leans over for a kiss, but Dean pulls away before their lips meet.

“I really want you to kiss me, but it’s not right.” When he cups Aidan’s cheek, he realises how cold Dean’s hands are. He nods slowly. He gets that Dean might not be in the most romantic mood right now and their first kiss should happen under the right circumstances.

“I’ll fix you first,” he promises, although he has no idea how to do that. So far his research has brought up a few people who might be able to help, but no one has gotten back to him, yet.

 

It might just be his imagination, but Aidan has the feeling that Dean is deteriorating faster every day. He was pretty much normal for the first few days, but then he realised that he didn’t feel hungry anymore and stopped eating. The next day he discovered that he didn’t need sleep and so he spends his nights awake, providing company for Aidan who is barely getting enough sleep to keep standing during the day, obsessed with finding someone who can get Dean his heartbeat back.

Things on set have gone pretty much back to normal for Aidan. Somehow the scandal around him seems to have blown over or people realised that he isn’t a bad, creepy bloke after all. Everyone keeps their distance from Dean, though. He looks pale and sick, he is short tempered and sometimes downright scary. It went so far that one of the make-up girls took Aidan aside, asking him if Dean had a drug problem and if they should have an intervention. Aidan fed her a story about Dean getting over a virus and luckily she bought it.

 

“Aid?” Dean sets a mug of tea down on the desk in front of Aidan who lifts his head blearily from his arms. He is pretty sure that the pattern of his bracers is imprinted on his cheek.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep… What time is it? What day is it?” 

“It’s Friday. Three in the afternoon,” Dean replies. He brushes the long hair of Aidan’s wig out of the way and puts his hand on the back of his neck, rubbing it lightly. “I just wanted to check if you want some tea and a lie down before we’re needed on set again.”

“No,” Aidan croaks and rubs his stinging eyes.

“Yesterday was tough, I know.” Dean swivels Aidan’s chair around and crouches down in front of him. He does is very slowly, like he does everything now. Yesterday they met with someone who claimed to have the ability to bring back the dead properly, but as it turned out, she didn’t even have an ability. She claimed she could do it by sprinkling flowers around and praying to a made up deity. Aidan had put all his hope in her and now he feels defeated and lost. “But maybe we have to start accepting the thought that it’s just not going to happen.”

He raises his hands to stop Aidan’s protest. His eyes are unnaturally pale today.

“I was dead. I shouldn’t have had this extra time at all and I am so thankful that you gave it to me. Over the past few days I got my things in order and started calling the people I love to say goodbye. I just got off the phone with my parents.” He swallows heavily and looks down for a moment, before meeting Aidan’s eyes again. He shrugs his shoulders. There is nothing more to say.

“No!” Aidan repeats. He is not ready to let Dean go. Not yet, not ever. “I like you. love you, Dean.” There, he said it. It’s true. He hasn’t known Dean all that long and they never even kissed or really dated at all, but he is sure of how he feels. 

“I love you, too, Aidan.” He rests his forehead on Aidan’s knee with a bitter little laugh at the irony of the situation. “But I am starting to smell. I can smell myself. And I am really, really hungry.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? Getting some food in you would do you some good!”

“Not hungry for food. You know what I need.” Dean fixes Aidan with his gaze, willing him to get it.

“We can still try, it’s not too late.” Aidan rubs his eyes again, this time, though, to keep tears from falling. If he has to find brains to feed Dean, he will do it. He will do whatever it takes.

“Aidan, listen to me. It’s okay.” Dean nods reassuringly and Aidan doesn’t notice the change in his voice when Dean uses his ability on him. He only feels like he can accept Dean’s decision, even if it breaks his heart. “I’m ready. I’ll do it tonight.” He reaches up and pulls Aidan into a tight, clinging hug.

Aidan holds on to Dean just as tightly, prepared to never let go of him, but, of course, they are disturbed by a sharp knock on the door.

“I guess they need us,” Dean mumbles. “We’re coming!”

Apparently the production assistant is determined to get them immediately, because there is another knock.

“For feck’s sake!” Aidan growls and lets go of Dean to answer the door, fully prepared to have a diva moment and tear whoever is calling a new one. He opens the door with a forceful push that makes it bang against the trailer wall.

“What the hell is wrong with…” He takes a step back, surprised. Standing in front of him isn’t some assistant, it is Gandalf, the fucking Grey in full costume, with his hat and staff and sword.

“Mr. McK… Ian.” He stutters, a little embarrassed by his outburst.

“Just a thought, if you want to discuss something in private, close the windows first. Anyone could have walked by, you know,” Ian says with a hint of a smile on his lips that is entirely inappropriate. He gestures towards the door. “May I?”

“Yeah, of course. Come in.” Aidan steps aside and takes a deep breath to compose himself. Ian takes off his hat before entering the trailer and gives Dean, who has sat down on the bed a long, compassionate look.

“So, you died?”

Dean nods and at Ian’s request they give him a short summary of everything that has happened.

“You should have come to me,” Ian says, once they finished.

“Can… can you help him?” Aidan feels the tiniest glimmer of hope in his chest.

“Oh, no, I can’t, I’m afraid.” Ian regretfully admits. “But when you get to be my age, which is 42, by the way, you pick up a few things.”

He reaches out and takes both of Aidan’s hands. He envelops them with his own. The touch is warm, much warmer than it should be, almost uncomfortably hot, but Aidan doesn’t pull away until Ian lets go of him.

“That should do it,” he says, pleased. “Use it responsibly.”

“Do you… give abilities?” Aidan frowns at his hands. He feels different. Stronger, more confident, more powerful.

“No, I just enhance what is already there. Pull out whatever is hidden inside you, not yet fully developed.”

“And now I can heal Dean?” It sounds too good to be true.

“There’s no time like the present to find out.” With no warning at all, Ian takes the sword and with unexpected speed and precision launches Dean with it. Even though it is just a prop, it is enough to pierce his neck and tear through his windpipe. Dean’s hands go up to his neck, frantically trying to cover the gaping hole, but he only lasts a few seconds before collapsing onto the bed.

“Oh, God, no! What did you do?” He doesn’t care that the man in front of him is Ian McKellen. That is the man that took Dean from him before he had a chance to say goodbye. Should he fail.

Nervously, he wipes his hands on the long tunic that is part of his costume and steps closer to the bed. He blinks the lack of blood around the wound, but remembers that without a heartbeat there really shouldn’t be any.

He moves as much of the costume and the fat suit away as he can before slipping his hands underneath it all, touching Dean’s bare skin. For a second he fears that nothing will happen and almost panics, but then focusses and he can feel it. He can feel _something_ pouring out of him and into Dean. The gash in his neck closes slowly, his spine cracks as it heals and he can feel a rib shifting back into place under his hand. He stays perfectly still, afraid to mess things up, and watches the colour return to Dean’s skin, where it isn’t covered in a thick layer of make-up. A moment longer and Dean starts to breathe and then, finally, his eyes flutter open.

“Did Ian McKellen just stab me with a sword?” Dean asks. His voice is a little raspy, still, but it gets better after clearing his throat.

“I think he did,” Aidan agrees and turns around to Ian, but all there is left of him is the door clicking shut quietly. “Will I kiss you now?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Dean grins and pulls Aidan on top of him.


End file.
